


Sawdust

by WhyNotFly



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, You’ve heard of there was only one bed in the safehouse, alcohol cw, all soft feelings, basira is very gay and so am i, now it’s time for it wlw edition, there were zero beds in the safehouse, until daisy put one there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22008121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyNotFly/pseuds/WhyNotFly
Summary: Daisy is setting up her safehouse in Scotland.  Basira doesn’t help.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 8
Kudos: 84





	Sawdust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HermaeusMora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermaeusMora/gifts).



> Happy birthday Artemis!!! This one is for you. I know daisira isn’t our usual go-to pairing but....well.....I think you’ll see why I had to write it for you. I tried to make any of the boys do it and it just didn’t work it only worked with daisy so! That’s what we got. I hope you enjoy it and have a very happy birthday. Thank you for putting up and staying up with me 😘

“There’s beer in the icebox,” Daisy said when she opened the door. It was so like her, wasn’t it, to have no bed, no table, but plenty of ways to get wasted. Not that Basira had ever seen Daisy wasted. She just seemed to grow perpetually quieter until the teeth came out. Not always in a bad way. There was a reason Basira kept coming.

The safehouse was dusty, which made sense considering Daisy hadn’t been here in over a year. It’d been left practically abandoned—all personal touches that could be traced back to her wiped clean—leaving it wide, empty, and lonely. The only spot of color against the bare wood was the single, tiny window, looking out over the lush Scottish highlands. If it wasn’t for the high vaulted ceilings with their bare beams, it would have felt claustrophobic. If it wasn’t for the only light source being the bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling, it would have felt too open, indefensible. As it was, it just felt like Daisy. Simple, serviceable, and trustworthy. With just one chair and plenty of beer.

It made Basira feel at home in a way no nicely furnished apartment ever could.

Daisy went back to the main room while Basira slinked around her towards the kitchen. The “ice box” Daisy had mentioned was a bit of a misnomer considering it had no ice in it. Just a big, blue, plastic tub on the ground full of mismatched cans of a dozen different brands of beer. Basira pulled one out at random and raised an eyebrow at the expiration date stamped onto the bottom of it.

“Are you aware of how long ago June was?”

“Beer doesn’t go bad,” Daisy called from the next room over.

“June of _last year_ ,” Basira grumbled, walking back out of the kitchen. Daisy was sitting on the floor, one leg kicked out in front of her and the other propped beneath her. The tiny bit of light from the one small window caught a swirl of dust motes like fairy lights in the air around her. They’d have to black that out, soon. Curtains. Or paint. 

“If you’re going to bribe me into helping you set up the rest of the safehouse,” Basira said as she walked over and dropped into the plush, floral-printed armchair, “you ought to at least get me cold beer.”

“I never said you had to help.” Daisy looks up at Basira, her chin tilted forward just a bit. She had this sort of scar that pulled at the corner of her mouth. Always made her look like she knew a secret. 

“Why invite me over then?”

Daisy shrugged. She was out of uniform, which wasn’t uncommon. Detectives didn’t have a strict dress code, and Daisy didn’t have a penchant for toeing the line. But it was still something different seeing her like this, rumpled, paint-splattered tank top. Her arms were lean and dangerous. The little glimpses of her shoulders made promises Basira had no doubt they could keep. 

“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted some company?”

“I can believe that if it makes it easier for you.” Basira cracked the can and took a swig of warm beer. It tasted as stale as the air.

“Aren’t you sweet,” Daisy said, wiping sweat off her palms onto the loose faded denim of her jeans. “Got any experience with carpentry?”

“Not really.”

“Then you probably shouldn’t start here. I’m not a very good teacher.” Daisy was not a good teacher. Good role model maybe. Confident leader. Experienced partner. She reminded Basira of her dad in a way she really didn’t want to examine while Daisy was knelt on the floor by her feet, surrounded by piles of wood and workman’s tools.

“This place needs a bed,” Daisy was saying. “Mattress on the floor is no good, that’s how you get mold. Sweat gets trapped, no airflow.”

“You sweat a lot on that bed?” Basira asked. There was no heating in the safehouse, there was barely even running water. 

Daisy gave Basira the smirk she’d been fishing for. She had a hangman’s smile, cracked and torn. Basira pulled her feet up onto the chair and hunched her shoulders forward. “Maybe you’ll find out if something goes horribly wrong and we have to disappear together.”

“Just one bed, for the both of us?”

“We could make two in the same time, if you were helping,” Daisy pointed out.

“Can’t.” Basira took a long swig of her beer. It was disgusting. “I’m drunk.”

Daisy grinned. “What a shame.”

There was something about Daisy with a saw in her hand. Her hair twisted back into a messy bun, flyaways stuck to the sweat on her neck, muscles working all up and down her arm. Basira sat in the old padded chair, picking at the yellow foam where it peeked through the ripped upholstery, and watched. They were both silent, but the air was full of the buzz of metal on wood and Daisy’s breathing slowly getting heavier. The room around them grew hotter and hotter, until it felt like Basira was sitting inside the wet warmth of Daisy’s breath.

Hours might have passed before Daisy put down her hammer. There were no clocks in the little house, and Basira hadn’t checked her phone once. She’d been caught, focused, watching Daisy slowly work from nothing into something. The light from the window was darker than it had been, the honey gold of late afternoon. The beer was half gone.

Daisy grabbed the hem of her tank top and tugged it over her head, no warning or preamble. It was ringed in places with dark patches and Basira could smell it from across the room as Daisy balled it up and tossed it at a wall. Sawdust and sweat. She rested a hand on her hip, ripped jeans slung low enough to show just a peek of elastic beneath them, and a bead of sweat slid down her collarbones and disappeared into the top of her sports bra.

“Hot,” Daisy said, breaking the silence between them. In answer, Basira held out her can, and Daisy stepped forward to pluck it from her hand. There was something in the way her throat bobbed as she downed the rest of the beer. Or in the drop that escaped and slipped messily down her chin. But Basira couldn’t tell what. Maybe that’s why she’d never made detective.

“I’ve still got to sand it down,” Daisy said, turning away so that Basira could see the crease in her back. The drawn and puckered scar that was her namesake. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I don’t have to stay,” Basira agreed. She didn’t move. She watched Daisy bend slowly over, an impossible expanse of sliced and mottled skin shining in the last dregs of sunlight.

“There’s more beer in the icebox. If you want it.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“Sure.” Daisy shrugged. She turned around and met Basira’s eyes and the room was full of dust and dirt and sweat and the sour smell of stale beer left to rot and Daisy. “But it’s yours, if you want it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. If u liked what you read you can follow me on tumblr @apatheticbutterflies I post writing and meta. 
> 
> In fact, if you wanna be a bro, I’m trying to hit 300 followers before the new year and I’m five away. So. Feel free to follow and then immediately unfollow on the first just so I can claim I accomplished something 😛

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Sawdust](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379397) by [GoLBPodfics (GodOfLaundryBaskets)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfLaundryBaskets/pseuds/GoLBPodfics)




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